


I'll Keep You Warm

by keepshepardsafe



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, Custom Trevelyan, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Light Angst, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fic, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 10:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14567463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepshepardsafe/pseuds/keepshepardsafe
Summary: The Herald of Andraste needs a break. She drinks a lot of wine to try to forget the pressures of her title but doesn't relax until her companions help her through it.Prompt used is the title.





	I'll Keep You Warm

_Oh yes. THE Herald of An-fucking-draste is drunk!_ She giggled. Mel’s cheeks hurt from suppressing her drunken laughter. Since she woke up in the make shift camp after the destruction of Haven and walking for a day and half in snowy mountains—she found some wine. A lot of wine and drank in her tent. She felt a slight chill pushing through the thin canvas and took another swig from the bottle. She stood and wobbled around trying to maintain balance. She was about to leave her tent with as much composure as possible when she heard a voice call to her, “Lady Trevelyan?” said Josephine 

“Josie!” Mel yelled out, pushing aside the tent flaps. Josephine jumped back in shock, “L-lady Trevelyan? Are you _drunk_?”

“Pfft always so formal, Miss Montilyet. You can call me Mel,” she leaned to the side like one would against a wall but promptly fell to the ground. She laughed, “And down goes The Herald!” Throwing up her arms in comedic fashion, wine bottle still in hand. Josephine rushed into the tent speaking with hushed annoyance.

“Lady Trevelyan! _Please_ get yourself. The advisors are gathering soon and…”

“May I interrupt?” came the familiar voice of Varric stepping into the tent, “It seems our Herald is just having some fun. You can lighten up on that can’t you, Ruffles?”

Josephine let out a long graceful sigh, “Please talk some sense into her Varric.” She turned and left and gave him an elegant nod. Varric walked over to Mel, who was still on the ground, her view of the tent ceiling spinning in front of her. “Varric! My favorite dwarf. Would you like some wine?” Mel extended her arm holding out the wine bottle. Varric grabbed it and gave it a small shake, “Unfortunately you’re fresh out.”

“Damn.”

“Here, I’ll help you up.” Varric held out his hand. Mel grabbed it and used whatever strength she had to assist him. Despite being a dwarf, he managed to get her back on her feet. She stumbled around for a few seconds before finding some semblance of balance.

“So, our dear Ambassador wants me to talk some sense into you.”

“Please, Varric. I am the symbol of sense,” she slurred

“Right. What I want to know is what The Herald of Andraste herself wants to do with her new-found sense.”

Mel put a hand to her chin and glanced upward putting some thought into what _she_ wanted to do, “I want to ride a Griffon. Do you think Blackwall can find me a Griffon?”

“Ha! That’s gold, Herald. Remind me to put that into my book. But I doubt our Warden friend would know where to find one. 

“Damn,” Mel paused. Her body swimming in warmth from the alcohol, “What did Josephine want me to do?”

“She said all the advisors were gathering soon.”

“Yes! I want to go to that but drunk. And I want everyone there! You, Cassandra, Solass, DORIAN…”

“Well, I can certainly try to make that happen. I’ll walk you there.”

“Even better! I think you should hold my hand the entire way.”

“The Herald of Andraste and the Seeker’s Prisoner Dwarf. Now _that_ would get people talking.”

“Yes! Finally give everyone else something to focus on rather than, ‘we just saw a dragon destroy our home.’

“I’m flattered, Herald. But if you keep staggering around like you are I’m sure that will be enough to get the people’s mind off of things.”

“As long as they don’t start singing to me again.”

“Let’s go." 

Mel took a step forward and immediately stumbled. Varric put his arms out to brace her but she caught herself, “I’m good.”

They walked through the camp. The sun had set but there were enough torches lit to guide them. Mel looked at everyone that passed by even though they were blurry she could tell their gazes averted as soon as they made eye contact. It was one thing to be The Herald of Andraste, it became completely different to be The Herald of Andraste, the Maker’s chosen, who brought down a mountain to take out an Archdemon and lived. She wished she could just be a solider, a respected warrior, or just be Bann Trevelyan’s daughter again. She was so much more now. _I need another drink_. The walking, the cold night air, and her intense focus on her surroundings was killing her drunken, carefree state. Varric noticed her face harden.

“You okay?”

Mel snapped back to the present world, “Yes. I…” she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t feel completely okay, “Can I ask you something, Varric? About The Champion specifically.”

“Sure. Pretty sure we’ve already talked about my book though." 

“We have but it never mentions… did Hawke ever express doubt to you? Fear of failure? Fear of being a fraud”

“Maker, Mel. You need another drink.”

“Sorry. I just…”

“All heroes doubt themselves. Hawke especially.”

Mel let out a deep breath she was holding in, “I think I do need another drink.” 

They neared the meeting place that Mel was so eager to get to just moments ago. The advisors were not there yet. A large fire was going with some rugs around it. It suddenly occurred to Mel how cold she had become, her anxieties seemed to rid her of self-inflicted impairment. She approached the fire; its heat was a welcome friend to her chilled skin. 

“You hang tight. I’ll go tell the other advisors that you’re here, up, and ready. Ruffles will be thrilled.” Varric smiled at Mel and she smiled back, “Thank you, Varric.”

“Anytime,” he said and left.

Mel watched the flames dance. Now that she was still again she could feel the intoxicating wooziness sneak back into her head. She lowered herself to the ground and sat on one of the thick rugs, resting her arms against her knees. She could hear Josephine and Leliana’s voices behind her. _Another long talk about what to do and everyone looking at me for an answer._ But from beyond the flames she could see Iron Bull, the Charges, and Sera coming over. They all look a seat around the fire along with Josephine and Leliana.

Mel looked bewildered, “What’s going on?” 

Leliana smiled, “We have been on the move for what seems like years now.”

“We thought that maybe we could take a small break,” Josephine added.

“The war is not over but we should still celebrate the small victories as they come, “Leliana continued.”

Mel smiled broadly, “That sounds wonderful.”

Soon the others gathered around the fire. Dorian had wine bottles by the arm full, Blackwall had gathered as many cups as he could find, and Cassandra had brought some bread she thought the Inquisition could spare. Solas even made an appearance though he stayed behind in the shadows as much as he could. It still made Mel happy to see him there.

“Here, Boss,” Iron Bull handed Mel a cup of wine. 

“To the Herald, yeah?” Sera chimed.

“To the Herald,” Varric said appearing next to Mel and gave her a quick wink.

They all cheered in her honor. As they gulped down their drinks and Commander Cullen showed up to the party he was not expecting.

“What’s happening here? I thought we were going over our inventory. The Inquisition needs to be sure we are prepared. Especially our soldiers and…” 

“Easy there, Curly,” Varric said, “Come sit down, have a drink.” 

“We really should not be wasting resources.”

“Relax, Commander!” Cassandra enthusiastically shouted, “There will always be tomorrow.”

Mel’s drunken condition had returned. She could feel her cheeks were warm and flushed. She couldn’t take her eyes off Cullen, “Come and have a seat, Commander.” She patted an empty spot on the rug next to her. Though he had taken no sip of wine, Cullen felt his cheeks go red, “Herald—well, if you’re certain this is how we should be spending our time,” he said with pause. 

“Oh, I absolutely think so, Commander,” she patted the rug again. He walked over with some reluctance only because he was so taken with her and sat down. A sudden breeze made him shiver, _Maker, I hope she didn’t see that_. 

“Cold, Commander?” she asked with a smirk and handed him her cup, “There’s not much left but don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm,” she gave him a small nudge and he took the cup. She leaned in closer to him, their arms and hips pressed against each other’s. It felt like electricity shot through them both. Cullen gulped down what was left in the cup and stiffly held himself. Mel felt him tense and shyly moved away from him. It was as if small group had disappeared to them but their fail attempt at flirtation was obvious to everyone else.

Varric, to the rescue, distracted them both from the awkward moment, “Another toast to Mel Trevelyan, the constant inspiration for my next book: _This Shit is Weird_.”

Mel laughed and grabbed Cullen’s wrist to lift the cup in the air and everyone else followed suit.


End file.
